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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Morris Gilbert

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

The Boulghar Dagh

Morris Gilbert

From “The Near East”

DAY by day the sun booms over this long valley,

And the mountains are sun-flowers

And smile fondly at him as he goes by.

For only Gunesh, the sun,

Of all the people they have seen pass,

Is steadfast.

Alexander came through this valley,

And did not return.

At its mouth a lass unparalleled

Found Antony in a market-place,

Whistling to the air: they sailed away together.

A man named Saul trudged up this road soon after:

He went on to Rome.

Godfrey de Bouillon passed this way, to drown

In Cydnus.

Some troopers from Bavaria and Pesth

Were here last year—and they fled.

Now Pathans and Sikhs

And other swarthy fighting-men camp hereabouts.

But presently they’ll be gone.